One of my pet theories is that inanimate things can be sentient and can even make choices of their own. I mean if you accept that everything in the Universe is made of energy, and if you've imbued your favorite inanimate things with lots of love and emotional energy... then why isn't this a perfectly reasonable theory?
Example: The day my car ("Carly") chose to break down at the exact moment after pulling me safely into a parking spot, and not one minute before at a busy intersection or on the busy street I had just come from.
And when a favorite dress found its way-- years later-- back to me.
My very first "real" job was at Abraham & Straus in the Galleria Mall in White Plains NY as a Retail Sales Manager Trainee. Having no clothes appropriate for being on the selling floor for the 9-5, six days a week, I was excited to take advantage of the employee discount to build a wardrobe of suitable outfits. Dresses became the go-to: one piece, easy to throw on uniform of the new college recruits in the training program. One dress in particular was my favorite and got lots of extra play because of how much I loved the happy shade of lavender with the small white polka dots, and how good it made me feel when I wore it.
After 10 good years, I left NYC, having generated a lifetime's worth of cortisol (the body's stress hormone) from wearing dresses + pantyhose + pumps daily along with:
- riding a crowded subway to and from the city
- working in a fast-paced, demanding-yet-exhilarating job on Madison Avenue
- thwarting my mugger at Fifth Avenue and 34th street (read about it at "Unlikely Mugger")
- and more...
Ultimately I rescinded my own proclamation to "never return" to upstate NY, moved home to Rochester, NY, and promptly gave all those dresses away to Good Will.
Now fast forward many years later: My oldest daughter was a dancer in the school musical. It was a day the cast had been waiting for because the musical director was to bring in their costumes: used clothes they could choose from. She was super excited about the dress she chose from the piles on the floor.
And showed me the lavender dress that called out to her.
Like running into a childhood friend who you never thought you'd see again, I was stunned to see the very same happy lavender dress with little white polka dots and a familiar well-worn tag at the neck that told me - though she had taken a circuitous route - eventually my sweet favorite dress had made her way back to the one who loved her.